


A Drabble of Dragons

by KnightOfTheBurningTree



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Aegon's Conquest, Defiance of Duskendale, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfTheBurningTree/pseuds/KnightOfTheBurningTree
Summary: Not really sure what drabbles are or how they work but this is just a collection of random scenes ive wanted to write, mostly focused on the Targaryens.





	1. Chapter 1

Aegon I Targaryen

His eyes ran across the curves and grooves of the newly carved table. It had taken weeks for the wood carvers to finish the table. Another 2 weeks for the painters to add all the details that his maester insisted upon. Hours of debating over the mountain ranges in the Vale, the trees of the Wolfswood and the tiniest of the Iron Islands

"So its finally arrived, has it?" 

He turned toward the voice that had broken his train of thought and focused his violet eyes on his sister, Rhaenys. 

"Yes, it arrived this morning. I was just admiring the details. Come and see." 

Rhaenys sauntered over, as was her way and put her arm around his waist while studying the map. He watched as his wife ran her free hand over the surface of the painted table.

"Is it not a thing of beauty?" He asked. 

"Its a beautiful table my love, which is why I hate to be the one to ruin it for you. Your map is incomplete. There are no borders. Its all just one land from Dorne to The Wall. There are no seven kingdoms." 

"As it should be," replied Aegon, smiling, his violet eyes shining. "One land. One kingdom, for one King."


	2. A Princess of Dorne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Rhaenys flew to Sunspear to confront Meria Martell

“May I present Rhaenys of House Targaryen, Queen of Westeros”, announced the herald nervously, her voice echoing across the empty audience chamber of Sunspear. Queen Rhaenys surveyed the ornate chambers and took note of the few people who were in attendance. The young maiden who had announced her, an old woman seated by the high seat with parchment and quills. _A scribe no doubt._ Then of course there was the woman she had flown here to see. Princess Meria Martell, ruling Princess of Dorne and the main obstacle in Aegon’s quest to conquer Dorne.

“Princess Meria, I am honoured that you have agreed to...grant me this audience.”

“Let us dispense with the pleasantries, shall we child.” The old woman replied, “I know why you are here. Sweet words won’t make your intentions for Dorne more appealing to me.”

_Curse Aegon for sending me here._ She cleared her throat and stepped closer to the dais. “You are right Princess, courtesies won’t change the facts. My brother, the king has sent me here to discuss the matter of your surrender. We have conquered the seven kingdoms save for Dorne. Kings, lords and knights have knelt before us to pledge fealty.”

“Not any Princess though, heh?” the old woman cackled in response.

She clenched her fists to try and control the fire boiling up inside her. “Princess, I believe there are terms we can reach that we can both agree on. Surrender Sunspear and swear fealty to my husband as King of Westeros and your house will remain in governance of Dorne, you will keep your title of Princess and your son will be Prince of Dorne after you. Subject only to King Aegon.”

Meria Martell stood slowly, the old woman extended a hand and the young herald took it and helped her down from the dais. Shuffling closer to Rhaenys on frail legs, the blind woman stood before her.

Her head tilted up slightly, her eyes a milky white, with a croaking voice, the Princess replied, “I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that.”

Rhaenys stiffened at the words, her patience worn thin. “I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and next time we shall come with fire and blood.”

A smile crossed the Princesses face and turned it into something sinister. “Your words, Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.”


	3. The Dragon in Duskendale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse at Aerys' imprisonment in Duskendale

"I am the king!" He screamed at the portly guard who had brought his food. A cold lamprey pie, poor fare for a king, though months in captivity had forced Aerys to adjust his standards. He spent a few more moments screaming in defiance at the guard and the gods who kept him in this dank cell. 

They will pay for this. Every last one of them. I will show them no mercy for this betrayal, he thought for perhaps the thousandth time. At first he had feared for his life, if Lord Darklyn had the nerve to hold his rightful king, little would stop him from ordering him executed. Though as his time in captivity grew, Aerys realised that he would make it through this ordeal. If Darklyn meant to kill me, the fool would had done so by now.

Slowly, he slid down to the floor, exhausted, and rested against the cold steel bars of his cell. He had lost track of how many days he’d spent here. It was all a monotonous blur. The only way to tell days was the arrival of the insipid guard who brought him one meal a day. His days were filled with hunger and boredom. His nights were another sort of torture.

Aerys picked at his food with no real intention of eating it before abandoning it to the rats, his onlt companions in the dungeons of the Dun Fort. He crawled over to his sleeping pallet and tried to calm himself into sleep. Of late though, the rats weren’t the only thing that kept him awake. His dreams had become a constant source of torment. Dreams of freedom. Dreams of fresh, hot food. Dreams of fire and blood. He closed his eyes in the hopes of dreaming of being free from his cell.

The gods had other plans though. His dream started like all the others, he sat on the Iron Throne in all his royal raiment, a full court spread out before him, all the high lords and ladies that craved his attention and wisdom. At his feet lay a fierce lion with a great golden main and green eyes flecked with gold. Fierce it may have been to others but in his dreams, the lion was as tame as a house cat. The court was full, stags and wolves knelt before him, roses and falcons praised him and it all felt right. His dreams always ended in fire and his son Rhaegar was the spark. Before his eyes, he saw his son, a silver dragon, kill one of the wolves and the whole court rising in turmoil. The roses fought the stags, the wolves fighting a bronze sun and all the while the lion lay still at his feet. 

He rose in anger from his throne, “Kill them”, he screamed at the lion. “Attack them, kill them! I want them all dead and burnt!” The lion gave no response except to rise and lunge at him. “No, kill them! Burn them!”

He woke with a start and sat up to find his cell flooded with light from a torch. “Your Grace”, a voice whispered. “Who is it? What is the meaning of this?” he replied curtly.

“Your Grace, it is I, Ser Barristan of your Kingsguard. I’m here to rescue you.” The voice replied as the man stepped into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Duskendale had been his finest hour, yet the memory tasted bitter on his tongue"
> 
> I originally wanted to do an AU in which Aerys dies during Ser Barristan's rescue, leaving Rhaegar as a young king and no rebellion. I decided against it because Dany wasn't even close to being born at the time and she's too important not to include


End file.
